"Then Memnon (at an Hour when few are Villains / The sprightly Juice infusing gentler Thoughts, / And kindling Love ev'n in the coldest Breasts,) / Unequal to him in the Face of War, / Stole on Celander with a Cowards Malice, / And struck him to the Heart."

"Like thine, / Immortal Thirst of Empire fires my Soul, / My Soul, which of superiour Power impatient, / Disdains thy Eldership; therefore in Arms / (Which give the noblest Right to Kings) I will / To Death dispute with thee the Throne of Cyrus."